Denial
by Stardust98
Summary: Spain is worried about Romano, he hasn't come out of his room for weeks! When he learns that the reason for this is that Romano is in love, he is determined to help. But what is he to do when Romano's crush is coming in a few days? Oh, and they get caught in a compromising position too. What joy! S. Italy Self-Cest. RomanoxRomana. LovinoxChiara. Rated T for beautiful language. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so I really, REALLY like selfcest, but there isn't enough of it. So . . . yeah. This is a two-shot by the way!**

**DON'T JUDGE ._.**

**Yup. RomanoxFem! Romano. LovinoxChiara. Haters can hate. **

**There is slight SpainxFem!Romano, (AntonioxChiara), and maybe some SpainxRomano, (AntonioxLovino).**

**Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia.**

* * *

Spain was worried.

Romano was acting really weird recently. For the past couple of weeks, the Italian hadn't come out of his room.

It had all started a few weeks ago, when he told Romano that Chiara, a friend of theirs, was coming over soon. After that, he blushed (Looking like a cute tomato~) and stomped up to his room, complimented by a shrill _'Chigi~!'._

The Spaniard had tried to get him to come out, but in vain. He had even tried to get him out by luring him with tomatoes. No, not the store bought ones, ones that were fresh and hand-picked from Antonio's large garden.

He would be there for many minutes, knocking and pleading for the fiery Italian to step out of the room. And he didn't. The weird thing was, that whenever the Spanish man left a tomato near the room and left, it disappeared when he came back. And he would always hear Lovino groaning and cursing out loud. He wished he knew what was wrong with Romano so he could fix it. He was the boss, and a boss had to take care of his henchmen, after all.

So, he went and asked his 'very intelligent' friends, Prussia and France.

"I just don't know what to do anymore . . . _Me rindo,"_ Antonio grumbled.

"Toni, you have made an awesome choice comin' to the awesome me for advice," Prussia slapped his friend on the back heartily, causing the Spanish nation to stumble a bit. "We'll get Romano outta his room in no time!"

Francis however, looked deep in thought. And no, it was **not** perverted thoughts. He was doing some real thinking. Surprised?

"So you say he blushed when you had mentioned this person?" The French man asked.

"_Si_, he got all red, _como un tomate_!" Spain squealed the last part, before going back into his emo mode.

France smirked when he had heard this. He sighed, amusedly, and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. The French man chuckled.

"Ah, _Espagne_ . . . You still have much to learn in the art of love."

"Love? What do you mean?" Francis knew he would say that, he was already used to the Spaniard's obliviousness.

"Well, it is very obvious that _petit _Romano is in love."

"Lovi? In love?" Spain tried to imagine his little henchman in love, ya know the whole thing with the moony eyes, and the little hearts floating around . . . He tried so hard that he had to stop before his brain disintegrated. This was only about five seconds.

"Kesese~! No way!" Prussia scoffed. "That guy is way too angry to be in love."

"And it is certainly clear that he is in love with Chiara," France added.

"Aww! My little Lovi is in love with Chiara! They would make the cutest couple ever!"

"I believe I remember who Chiara is now . . ." France closed his eyes to remember, then flinched and opened them again. He still felt that pain when the girl kicked his Eiffel Tower. "Oh . . . _Mon Dieu_ . . ."

"Ya still feel it too, huh?" Gilbert flinched also. She still had that restraining order on him . . .

"We have to help him! Chiara is coming in two days!" Antonio fretted.

"We still have to get him out of the room . . ." Francis reminded his friends.

"I think I know just how," The albino smirked, and whispered his plan into Antonio's ear. The Spaniard nodded excitedly, and grinned at France, the Prussian grinning at him also. France narrowed his eyes suspiciously and crossed his arms.

"No."

"But you don't even know what we want you to do!" Antonio whined.

"Well, I know that I won't like it."

"Please?"

"No."

"_Por favor_?" Spain gave him a kicked puppy look. No, not a sad puppy look, a kicked puppy look. (It's cute because it's like a puppy looking at you saying 'Why did you hurt me?').This is a very lethal weapon, and if used appropriately, can guarantee for the victim to do what the user wants. However, only a select few can use this weapon successfully.

" . . . Okay."

It's super freaking effective!

* * *

". . . But he'll** kill** me! I like my Eiffel Tower the way it is now, and I certainly do not want it to be ripped off!"

"_Vamos Francia, _he won't kill you. He'll just run out of the room, like he always does when he sees you~!"

France was now climbing the vines next to Romano's bedroom window. The plan was for him to go in, scare the hell out of the Italian, so he would have no choice but to run out. Spain would be inside, comforting Romano, and then they could help him with his love problem.

"That plan sounded way more awesomer in my head," Prussia pointed to the text above. Spain and France looked at him, confused as to why he was breaking the fourth wall. "It's supposed to have the awesome me! Without me, nothing is awesome." The authoress glared at him and he shut up.

"Anyway . . . I'm almost there!" France called from his position above the duo.

"Keep going!" Gilbert called.

"I-I'm in!" The French man pouted, out of breath. Seriously, he had no idea why he did these things.

Back on the ground, Prussia had given Antonio a random walkie-talkie he had in his pocket, and gestured for him to go inside. Once he did, the albino called for Francis to initiate the plan.

When France had gotten (Read as: fallen) into the room from the window, he wrinkled his nose at the mess in the room and headed to the bed where Romano lay. He looked at the figure of the sleeping Italian, and tried to remember what Prussia told him to do.

'_Remember, be all creepy and perverted when you go in, kay?"_

Oh.

Problem was, he didn't know how to be perverted and creepy, because he **tooo~tally** wasn't (Yeah right.). However, Romano did look incredibly adorable in his sleep. Almost like an angel. The scowl on his face was no longer present, and he looked so peaceful . . .

Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea. If you know what I mean.*le perverted wink* _Ohonhon~!_

He walked towards the bed slowly, and caressed the Italian's face gently.

'_So cute!' _He thought.

Well, it seemed like he had put too much _Chanel _perfume on that morning, because Romano's nose twitched, and his eyes shot open. The hazel orbs darted towards the intruder at the side of the messy bed.

"**CHIGIIII! SPAAAIIIN!"**

Gilbert smirked when he heard Romano's familiar scream (Yes, he knew how Romano's screaming sounded like. Problem? *insert troll face here*) and told Spain through the walkie-talkie that the plan was working. Antonio had proceeded to complain how he had wanted the red walkie-talkie and why he had to get the purple one. Prussia retorted with his famous 'Cuz I'm awesome' catchphrase. Antonio had no answer to that, because he knew his friend wouldn't stop.

But, Alas, Gilbert was distracted at the wrong moment, so he didn't notice a certain country plummeting down above him.

* * *

"What happened?"

"Owie . . ." France rubbed his sore head. "That really hurt . . ." He looked at his hand, and looked horrified as he did so. "_Mon Dieu! _I ruined my manicure!" Spain looked at his nails, confused, only to see a tiny (That shit was microscopic) little scratch on his thumb nail.

"How the hell are you hurt!? I'm the one that broke your fall!" Prussia howled from his position under Francis (Get your head outta the gutter, kids). " . . .**Scheiße** . . ." He groaned. "Ah . . . fuck . . ."

"How did you manage to make yourself fall out of the window?" Spain asked Francis.

"I didn't, Romano **punched** me, then I stumbled back and fell out! And he owes me a new manicure!"

"I think I broke a rib, guys . . ." Prussia hissed in pain. His friends ignored him.

"**He did!?** Wow . . . he usually screams my name (GET YO HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER) and runs off."

"I'm coughing up blood . . ."

"My nails!** Ruined**!"

"Help me . . ."

"_Prusia_! You're bleeding! Why didn't you say anything earlier!?" Spain dragged his friend to the car, Francis following, and proceeded to drive him to a hospital.

* * *

The next day, Spain and France were still trying to think of another way to get Romano out of that room. Prussia had decided to stay at home, not wanting any more injuries. This was surprisingly a very wise decision, because Spain had chosen to go for Plan B (Also known as their last good plan).

Plan B was to bring 'Mother Russia' into Romano's room.

After a very (creepy) awkward conversation on the phone, Russia had arrived at the Spaniard's house.

"So," The Russian began, smiling at Antonio and Francis. Spain was grinning back, being his idiotic oblivious self. France, however, was hiding behind his friend while shaking in utter fear. "What's in it for me?"

"Er . . . I haven't really thought about that . . ." Spain said sheepishly.

An ominous purple aura surrounded Ivan, and he appeared to be chanting something. It really sounded like he was muttering a dangerous 'Kolkolkol . . .'

"Ah . . . Toni, I have to get something in the kitchen . . ." Francis blurted out. Russia got closer, still smiling. "I'm leaving now so _Adieu_!" And with that being said, the French man bolted out of the room and into the kitchen. Ya know, like an Italian being chased by a German, so he was pretty quick actually.

"I have idea. . ."

"_Que? _What is it?" Spain inquired eagerly. "Anything you want!"

If I do this for you, Romano becomes one with Mother Russia."

"Yes, sure, whatever," The Spaniard waved his hand dismissively. Not knowing about the mistake he had just made. "Now let's go!"

* * *

"Okay, all you have to do is climb up those vines, and get in the window. When Lovi runs out, make sure to lock the door behind him, and come back out here." Antonio smirked, proud of his amazing (fail) plan. When he turned to Russia, he saw that Ivan was already half way up the vines.

After a few seconds (Damn he's fast!) the Russian had reached Romano's room, and had begun to creep slowly towards the Italian, who sat in a little (emo) corner. Russia could hear him angrily cursing and muttering.

"Hello, friend. Become one with Mother Russia, da? Or die."

Lovino, however, ignored him, and continued sulking. A little enraged by this, the eerie purple aura came back again, even stronger than before (Oh crap) and a 'Kolkolkol' could be heard.

The Italian turned around and stared at the man. Ivan stared back. Hazel stared into violet, and violet stared into hazel eyes. This staring competition was intense, as one could feel the tension in the air crackle like lightning. Romano's stare was blank, while the Russian's was intimidating. Then Romano growled.

Well then . . .

* * *

"Russia, what are you doing back down here? Did Romano come out, yet?" Spain, asked, confused. That was faster than he thought it would be . . . And for some reason Russia was smiling nervously.

Now, you, the reader, might be all like 'What the (insert colorful word here) is going on!?' (Silly Americans). Now, for the rest of you that figured it out, congratulations.

"I must go home now. Natalia will come for me if I don't go back."

"Wait, is Romano out of the room?"

The Spaniard was ignored, and Russia left without looking back. Antonio swore he heard _'Damn Italian's eyes stared into my soul . . .'_

As soon as he left, Antonio heard his phone ring.

"_Bueno?"_

"_Is that you, bastardo?" _A female voice was heard.

It was Chiara!

Just calm down, Antonio. Act Natural . . .

"_H-Hola_ Chi-Chi ~! So how have you been? What are you doing? Everything is fine here! It's not like Romanoislockedinhisroom or anything, fusososo~!"

"_**Dammit!** Don't call me that, tomato bastard. And don't laugh like that, it's fucking creepy. I just called to tell you that I will be there tomorrow morning. There** better** be some tomatoes left on the table, and . . ."_

Antonio stopped listening; Chiara was going to be here tomorrow! (No duh.) And Lovi was still sulking in his room.

The Spaniard went to the kitchen, and told Francis what just happened.

" . . . And now I don't know what to do! _Dios Mio . . ._"

"Hey . . . maybe he'll come out when Chiara arrives."

"I hope your right . . ."

"I'm going home now, _mon ami. _Good luck!"

"Thanks Francis."

As the Frenchman headed out of his friend's house, he whispered a silent prayer while looking at the darkening sky. He really hoped that by the time this was over, Spain's vital regions would still be intact. He hadn't even got to conquer them yet, anyway!

* * *

"_Bastardo!_ Open the damn door!"

Antonio groaned as he heard the familiar voice shouting outside. He sat up, wincing at the bright sunlight that was coming from the window. I mean, it was really, really bright. Like eye-rape bright. 'Mkay? Okay.

"Dammit! Open the door!"

"_Ya voy _. . ." Spain got up, yawned and stretched. Then, sleepy green eyes scanned the neat room for the closet. He chose a simple white t-shirt, and hurriedly put it on. He walked downstairs, and opened the door, scratching his (glorious) ass as he did so. (Hey! Don't judge . . . It was itchy :/).

"It's about damn time!" She stepped inside the house, and set her bag down on the couch. "Where's Lovino?"

"Upstairs, _porque_?" He asked, and was pleased to see a faint blush dust her cheeks, and her olive eyes dart around the room nervously.

"No reason . . ."

Chiara was wearing her hair down, her wavy dark brown curls cascading down her shoulders. She was wearing a headband, as usual, and her khaki uniform. Her red heels clacked on the marble floor as she walked, and Spain was again surprised by how much she looked like Romano. So, he couldn't help himself, and tackled her, the girl letting out a startled shriek as he did so.

"So cute~ Fusososo~"

"You _stronzo! _Get off of me!"

"Aww, you look like a-"

"Don't you dare fucking say it."

" . . . Tomato?"

"_Vaffanculo_!"

"What the hell is going on here?" The duo on the floor turned towards the new voice. It was Romano, and his eyes were narrowed menacingly at them. That was when they realized the position they were in.

_'Mierda . . .' _Antonio cursed.

* * *

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*****NEXT CHAPTER COMING UP SOON!**

*****Stardust98*****


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello~! Here is the last chappie of this two-shot!**

**Yup. RomanoxFem! Romano. LovinoxChiara. Haters can hate.**

**There is slight SpainxFem! Romano, (AntonioxChiara), and maybe some SpainxRomano, (AntonioxLovino).**

**Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia.**

* * *

_"You __stronzo! __Get off of me!"_

_"Aww, you look like a-"_

_"Don't you dare fucking say it."_

_" . . . Tomato?"_

_"__Vaffanculo__!"_

_"What the hell is going on here?" The duo on the floor turned towards the new voice. It was Romano, and his eyes were narrowed menacingly at them. That was when they realized the position they were in._

_'Mierda . . .' __Antonio cursed._

* * *

"Uhh . . . er, _Hola_ Romano . . ." The Spaniard gave the murderous looking Italian a weakly smile. He knew he was in deep shit. After all, he had vowed to help Romano with his little love issue, not ruin the chance of anything romantic happening.

He immediately braced himself to run.

Chiara's face was turning a dark red, and it took her a moment to process what was happening. Antonio . . . and she was under . . . and Romano saw . . .

'_No, no, __**no**__!' _She thought, panicking. _'This is not how I wanted it to fucking go!' _

Then again, the Universe always seemed to be plotting shit against Chiara Vargas.

Romano was fucking pissed. Then again, the Universe also seemed to be plotting shit against Lovino Vargas. Southern Italians naturally have bad luck it seems.

He was definitely not jealous. Not at all. Heh . . . Why would he be jealous? It wasn't like he liked Chiara . . . And he definitely wasn't jealous of Spain. Nope. No way.

Well . . .

* * *

The Italian girl looked at Lovino, and finally realized that Antonio was still on top of her (Get yo head. Out. Of. The. Gutter. Ah, forget it . . .). She blushed even more, and shoved the Spanish man off of her forcefully.

"_Chigi! _Get the hell off of me you fucking _bastardo!_" She shrieked as she shoved Antonio off forcefully. The Spaniard yelped, surprised. "Fucking pervert . . ." She muttered as she stood up, and adjusted her khaki skirt. Chiara looked down; making sure Romano could not see her face still blushing with embarrassment. However, Lovino did indeed see the red color on her cheeks, and it made him even more furious.

'_Wait, why is she blushing . . .? Could it be that . . .?'_

He let out a low growl before stomping towards the duo. His sandals made loud thumps on the floor, and his face was getting red. Damn, did he look like a freaking tomato.

"What the fuck!? I come back from taking a nap and I find you two humping each other in the damn living room!" He yelled. His hands were curled into fists, and he was glaring.

Spain scrambled to his feet, and judging by the furious look on Chiara's face, the two Italians were about to have one of their infamous fights. Just because the acted like each other, did not mean they got along. The Spaniard couldn't remember the number of times he had to prevent Chiara from permanently getting rid of Romano's vital regions.

"What the hell are you on about?" Chiara hissed. "I just came over, and this jerk decided to tackle me for no apparent reason! Nothing happened!"

"You're fucking lying! You two are probably dating behind my back!" The Italian man snapped.

Antonio's eyes widened. This argument was unlike any other he had seen before. They did yell at each other (constantly), but there was something different . . .

"No! How the hell did you get that into your thick head?! The tomato bastard and I are just freaking friends, dammit!" She was getting more pissed by the minute. But the weird thing was, Spain could hear a bit of anxiousness in her voice. "Why the hell are you so mad anyway?" Antonio noticed that Lovino paled at the question. "Well? Why do you care so much about the thought of me and the Spanish bastard dating?" Antonio wondered when Chiara was going to stop calling him a bastard.

"I-I don't . . ." Romano crossed his arms over his chest, and turned his head away, a light pink blush starting to appear on his face. "I don't c-care. Just . . ." He seemed to hesitate a moment before mumbling the next words. ". . . Stop trying to g-get with e-everyone . . ."

"W-What?" The girl looked shocked, her mind still trying to process what he just said. "What did y-you just s-say?"

'_Did he just say . . . No, he couldn't have . . .'_

"He said that you should stop trying to get with everyone," Spain blurted out. (Without thinking of course).

Lovino gave him a sharp glare, as if he was saying _'Thanks. Thank you so much, you stupid bastard.'_

Antonio's green eyes became wide as saucers as he realized what he just did. He put a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The girl's olive orbs began to be filled with utter rage, until her shoulders slumped down, and her stare became blank.

"I'm . . . I'm going to the garden . . ." She said. And with that, she walked away without glancing back a single time. Romano only caught a small glimpse of teary eyes, and he immediately felt horrible. He heard the hurried clacking of her heels, and the backdoor slam shut loudly. He stood there, staring at the backdoor, and slowly turned around.

* * *

"Dammit, dammit, **dammit**!" He cursed. He put his face in his hands and shook his head with guilt. "I'm such an idiot!" He brushed his band back with his hand, and gave a big sigh. "Now she thinks I'm an asshole . . ."

Spain gave a sigh also, and moved to stand next to Lovino, putting a comforting hand on his back. "No, Lovi, it's my fault . . . _Yo soy un idiota_ . . ."

"N-No. It's not your fault, it's **m-m-mine** . . ." The Spaniard looked at the Italian man, surprised. Romano would usually blame anyone except himself. This was very unusual and rare . . . ". . . I shouldn't have said that . . . Ugh . . . I don't know what to do . . ."

"Well . . . maybe you should go talk to her . . . Tell her how you feel . . ."

Romano looked at him in shock. "You . . . You knew?"

"Of course!" The Spaniard grinned. "Boss is an expert when it comes to _amor_!"

" . . . France told you, didn't he?"

" . . . Haha~! No . . ."

"He did, because an idiot with a head as thick as yours wouldn't know shit about love."

"**Hey!** That's **not** true . . .! And yes . . . he told me . . ."

They stood in silence for a few moments, until Lovino turned towards the back door. He took a step towards it, and hesitated. He gave a tired sigh, and walked towards it, very slowly.

"I'm going to go talk to her . . ." He mumbled, opening the door and heading out, dreading to confront the probably pissed Chiara.

* * *

As soon as he was gone, Spain face palmed. It was **ruined**! Any chance Romano had with the fiery Italian girl was probably gone, and it was all thanks to him.

He jumped ten feet in the air, startled by the sudden ringing of his phone.

_'I~ like little girls they~ make me feel so goo~d_

___I~ like little girls they~ make me feel so goo~d_

___When they~'re around me they make me feel like I'm the only~ guy in t-'_

___(Pedobear song) _

The Spaniard hurriedly pressed 'Accept Call'. Prussia probably messed with his ringtone . . .

_"Bueno?"_

_Ah, cher Espagne. How is the plan going?_

". . . Terrible . . . I tackled Chiara because she really, really looked like a cute red tomato, and then . . ."

Antonio told Francis everything that had happened, ending his story with a sigh. (He had been sighing a lot lately).

_Sneak to the garden and listen to their conversation._

"What? No! I don't feel like losing my vital regions today, _amigo_."

_Come on, Toni! You have to help Romano, remember? _

"_Si_, but-"

_What if another fight happens and you aren't there to stop it?_

"Well . . ."

_Go. And tell me what happens at the end~_

_"_I'm still not sur-"

_Adieu, and Good luck~_

He muttered a curse under his breath as his friend hung up. Antonio bit his lip, nervously. He sneaked towards the back door, opened it as quietly as he could, and headed towards the large oak tree where the Italian duo were.

Well, here goes nothing . . .

* * *

"What do you want?" Chiara asked as Romano approached. She sat in the shade of an oak tree, not sparing one glance at Lovino.

"I-I . . ."

"Well . . .?"

"I . . . want to apologize . . ."

The girl turned to him, a bit startled. This wasn't like Romano at all. She looked into his hazel eyes, and saw a quiet plead for forgiveness. Stubborn as always, she turned her body to him and urged him to go on.

"Um . . . dammit . . . Why is this so hard . . ." He bit his lip. " . . . I'm sorry I said that. I went t-to far and, dammit . . . I'm sorry." He looked down, praying that the shade of the tree hid his growing blush.

"Oh . . ." Chiara also looked down too, bringing her knees to her chest.

_'This is getting too fucking weird . . .' _She thought. _'He rarely apologizes . . .'_

The two stayed quiet for a moment, an awkward tension filling the air. They failed to notice a certain Spaniard sneak to hide behind the other side of the oak tree.

Well, it was quiet until Lovino decided he couldn't handle it anymore.

"Ugh! Look . . ." He sat next to her, causing the girl to turn to him. ". . .I-I really l-l . . ."

"What is it . . .?

"I really like you, dammit!" He blurted out.

She was speechless. She just looked at him with wide hazel-green eyes. He bit his lip harder, desperately wanting a reaction, but found none. Unfortunately, Romano took this as a bad sign, and he retaliated with a weapon so deadly, it could ruin the sweetest of moods.

**Denial.**

"Er, I'm just kidding! I just said I liked you because, uh . . . well, you seem lonely and you hardly have friends," He turned and crossed his arms. "I just pity you, t-that's all . . ." He faltered once he saw her furious gaze towards him.

"You . . . you idiotic bastard! I will fucking dropkick you! You insensitive fucking son of a fucking slutty bitch! _Vai all'inferno! ****__Vai__ all'inferno!_" She was panting by the time she was done with her rant, and Lovino looked at her with wide eyes. "You know what . . ." She started to walk towards the house. "Just forget it."

Spain **really** wanted to go out there and slap Romano, wait a few moments until the pain went away, then slap him again with more force.

"**Wait!** I didn't m-mean that . . ." Lovino said, while grabbing Chiara's wrist. The girl turned and looked back at him, anger flashing in her olive eyes. "_Mi dispiace_ . . . I do really like you . . . it's just . . ." At this point, the Italian man was not as red as a tomato, but as red as a freaking pimple, which Antonio thought was cute, but not as cute as blushing like a _'tomate'_. "I was afraid of r-r-rejection . . ." His voice dropped to a whisper at the last word.

The Italian girl stared at him for a few moments, her cheeks dusted with a light red blush, before she sighed and kissed him.

That's right.

**She fucking kissed him.**

It was a deep kiss, full of passion, and feelings that were kept for too long. His eyes were wide at first, but then he closed them slowly, then put his hands at her waist as she ran her hands through his dark brown locks.

They separated slowly, hazel meeting olive, until the olive eyes narrowed.

Chiara proceeded to slap Romano in the face.

I bet right now, you're like, 'What the fuck? But she **kissed** him!' Well, she's tsundere like dat. Alright?

Then, she gave him another kiss on the cheek before stomping back to Spain's house, blushing heavily and muttering about 'Stupid men' and all that jazz. Spain finally decided to come out of his hiding spot, (It totally wasn't because he felt like a creeper, no way!) and squealed at how cute that was. They both looked like tomatoes! **SIMULTANEOUSLY.**

OHMAWGAWD.

" . . . Tomato bastard . . ."

Oh shit.

" . . . _Si _. . .?"

"How much . . . of that did you see?"

" . . . All . . . of it . . .?"

"Run, run for your damn life right now."

And so, he ran, with an angry Italian chasing after him. Meanwhile, Chiara was inside, secretly happy about how things had gone today.

Maybe she had good luck, after all . . .

* * *

**The End.**

**Hahahaha~! That was awesome! I hope y'all liked it~! I loved writing this, it was really fun!**

**NOW, GO, GO SPREAD THE NEWS AND LOVE OF S. ITALY SELF-CEST! IT NEEDS MORE SUPPORTERS!11!1one!**

*****Stardust98*****


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